


Vulnerable

by LittleWhiteTie



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7674334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWhiteTie/pseuds/LittleWhiteTie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alvin is sick. Leia and Jude are there for him, whether he likes it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerable

Alvin wakes in the middle of the night; his body feels all wrong. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to pretend for a moment that his whole body doesn’t ache and his head isn’t spinning and his stomach isn’t churning, but it’s not something he can just will away. He knows this feeling, and while he doesn’t get sick nearly as often as he did as a child, when something hits him, it hits him hard.

 

He hopes he doesn’t wake anyone as he staggers out of bed and slowly drags his heavy body to the bathroom. He’s only taken a few steps and he’s already exhausted. He’s off-balance and the world is tilting - he feels like he’s in a shipwreck, a thought that triggers his anxiety and amplifies his nausea. He tries to brace himself, runs a hand through his hair, but his hands are shaking and he feels weak. He feels vulnerable and it terrifies him _._

 

He makes it out of the room unnoticed, but as he reaches the hallway he starts to feel lightheaded, spots dancing in his eyes, and he stumbles, crashing into the wall opposite. He curses under his breath. “Alvin?” Jude’s sleepy voice comes, and Alvin curses yet again.

 

He tries his best to steady his breathing. “Relax, kid. Just using the bathroom,” he says in the most laidback voice he can muster. Hopefully Jude will believe him; he is telling the truth, after all. He knows he won’t be able to hide anything from the young doctor if he sees him - even in the dark he knows he looks dreadful - but he holds onto the shred of hope that the kid will just go back to sleep and maybe this’ll be out of his system by morning.

 

He’s grateful when he doesn’t hear anything further. Alvin doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. For much of his life, he knew that if others saw him in this state, they could attack him in a million different ways and he’d be powerless against every single one; he wouldn’t even see it coming. He doesn’t feel like he’s in danger right now, but he can’t seem to shake the sense of fear in his gut.

 

He staggers into the bathroom, and as his stomach lurches, he gets on his hands and knees and heaves into the toilet. His abdomen spasms painfully, and for minutes that feel like hours all he can focus on is the desperate struggle between retching to get air into his lungs.

 

It takes a lot out of him, and once he is done, Alvin collapses none-too-gracefully onto the tile floor. The bathroom tiles are hard but cold, and the cold is a relief against his too-warm skin. He hasn’t got the strength to get up anyway, so he lets himself rest there, curled up on the floor, until the next wave strikes.

 

It’s a struggle to get back up when it inevitably hits again, but it can’t be helped. It seems to hit even harder this time, and he’s left slumped over the toilet, gasping for air. His eyes are watering and his throat is burning from bile when he hears footsteps.

 

His eyes shift to the door and he realizes he hasn’t shut it fully. He curses silently and makes to get up, but before he can even lift his head, Leia Rolando is staring at him with wide green eyes.

 

“Alvin?!”

 

“Hey, Leia,” he manages to say, but his voice is raspy and any attempt at nonchalance is overpowered by his panting. She looks as if she’s about to say something, but then she turns on her heel and runs off.

 

He vaguely remembers the last time someone had seen him like this. She’d turned and left too. But unlike Presa, Leia comes back. She’s here to help. The thought that she could have poisoned him never once crosses his mind.

 

Attached to Leia’s arm is Jude, whom she’d gone to fetch. Leia gives Jude a look and he gives her a curt nod; the two have been friends for so long they no longer have need for words. Alvin protests weakly, but he can barely form a coherent sentence. The two of them get to work.

 

Leia helps Alvin to sit up once his breathing becomes more even. He doesn’t want her help – he doesn’t want to need her help, anyone’s help – but he feels… _safe_. He allows Nurse Leia to run her deft hands expertly over his forehead, his chest, his abdomen, all the while rattling off all sorts of medical jargon as Doctor Jude listens and interjects occasionally with equally technical questions.

 

Alvin’s head is swimming and he can’t make sense of anything that they are talking about, but their voices are soothing. Despite the slight furrow of his brow as the cogs in his head turn, Jude’s expression is all earnest compassion. Alvin wishes he could return that warmth. Leia’s hands are gentle and smooth on his skin. Alvin wants to lean in to her touch. Alvin’s expressions, though, are anything but genuine, and his hands will always be rough - all they’re used for is…

 

Whatever Leia and Jude are discussing is interrupted as Alvin lurches forward, retching and expelling bile. He coughs up the horribly bitter substance for what seems like ages, and the painful spasms continue long after there is nothing left.

 

When he collapses this time, he doesn’t hit the floor. There are two pairs of arms supporting him as he gasps for air: one has him in a steady embrace and the other is gently rubbing his back. He can hear gentle murmuring, and though he can’t make out the words above the blood pounding in his head, the soft, reassuring tones are enough. They stay like that for a while.

 

As Alvin’s breathing begins to even out, he leans further into the steady arms supporting him and he lets his tired eyes rest.

 

His mind is hazy and it’s hard to make out anything or anyone, but much as he wants to, Alvin can’t forget. Gilland is etched into his mind and he sees him behind his eyelids, and he can feel bruises and gashes and broken bones. He sees the ghosts of people who have hurt him; even more ghosts of people he has let down. The ship crashes and he watches helplessly as his father drowns. He watches as his mother breaks, falls apart, and forgets him. He can hear gunshots and screaming, sees Leia, sees Jude. He can smell blood. He feels the earth give way as Presa falls to her grave. He sees empty rooms and revolving doors and he can’t see a way out. He feels pain, so much pain, in every part of his body, in his head and in the hollow cavity of his chest where his heart used to be. He hears himself pleading; all he wants is for it to stop.

 

“-vin!”

 

“Alvin?”

 

“Come on, Alvin. Wake up.”

 

“Please, just open your eyes.”

 

Alvin wakes with a start. He’s shivering and sweating like crazy, but the tracks running down his cheeks are not from sweat. _Ugh._

He reaches up to wipe them away, but he’s beaten to it. “Alvin,” Leia says softly, putting her hand to his face and brushing the tears away with her thumb. “You were having a nightmare. It’s okay now.”

 

“We were so worried.” Jude tightens his embrace. “You really scared us.”

 

Alvin tries to let out a laugh. “Sorry about that.” It comes out more sincere than he’d intended, so he tries again. “I just… I-“ His breath hitches and he can’t get any words out.

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he hears, as Leia gently strokes his face. Jude squeezes just a little bit tighter.

 

They don’t force him to talk or even make eye contact, and they don’t tell him how he should feel. They won’t breathe a word of this to anyone else, he knows, and unless he brings it up, they’ll pretend this never happened. They’re content to just be here for him in this moment, and it makes his heart simultaneously constrict and relax.

 

Alvin stops hiding and lets himself feel.

 

After a while, Jude slowly gets up. Leia reconfigures her position to support Alvin better, his back now against her knees. She makes soft, soothing sounds and gently strokes his hair, not seeming to mind that it’s damp with sweat.

 

“Here. Drink this,” Jude says as he returns, handing Alvin a glass. He takes it wordlessly but his hands are shaking so much he nearly drops it. Jude takes the glass back and Leia’s hands guide his own hands back down. He hates feeling so dependent, but nonetheless he lets Leia take his hands and he lets Jude help him drink.

 

The shaking hands, quick breaths, and hammering heart don’t escape Jude’s notice. “Are you afraid?” Jude asks quietly once he is done.

 

Alvin looks at him, then looks away. “It was just a nightmare.”

 

Jude surveys him cautiously, and his voice is gentle when he speaks. “…I’m talking about now.”

 

Alvin is silent for a moment, but the fever takes away his inhibition and he gives them an answer. “I used to be afraid of being around anyone when I was… like this,” he manages to say. “But now…” He looks from Jude to Leia. “Now I have people I can feel safe around, and…” he lowers his eyes and lowers his voice, “Now I’m only afraid for the day they come to their senses and leave.”

 

He feels their arms tighten around him, snuggling up a little bit closer. Leia puts a hand over Alvin’s, grasping like she’ll never let go, while Jude smiles into his shoulder. “You have nothing to fear,” Jude reassures him.

 

“Why would you stay?” he asks eventually, his voice barely a whisper.

 

“Because you’re our friend,” Jude says.

 

“You’re our friend and we care about you,” Leia nods.

 

After his nausea has subsided, Jude and Leia help him walk back to the room and back into bed. He's shivering, but then he feels two warm bodies flanking him on either side. They snuggle up against him, settling into a comfortable position. They’re here to stay, he realizes as he lets his eyes close and drifts off to sleep.


End file.
